


Burning Questions

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s08e20 Essence, F/M, Fluff, the most redundant question ever asked on any show ever (or so we thought), who is the father of scully's baby?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 01:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15426501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Set in "Essence": Scully finally tells her mother who the father of her child is.





	Burning Questions

If she were to count, how many reasons could she come up with not to tell her mother the truth? It’s been months. Months of long glances full of questions she didn’t dare to ask. Time that Scully spent meticulously jotting down what was happening to her, inside of her. Searching for anomalies, anything. Eight months in and the baby, moving and kicking, is as normal as it can be. Scully never thought in weeks or trimesters; her thoughts always with whatever test she could take next. Her baby, a boy, is perfectly healthy. These two words have not changed from the moment he was the size of a pea. They won’t change now either. She rubs her stomach, reassuring herself that the baby is indeed fine just like the doctor just told her. She wonders briefly if her eyes match the terror she sees in her mother’s face. Tears prick, but she refuses to let them fall as her mother apologizes. The baby kicks between them as her mother puts her arms around her.

“I’m so worried about you. You keep everything so bottled up.” How many reasons, Scully muses as she glances at her mother, and then at Mulder, waiting outside. The first hundred times she didn’t tell her mother the truth were because of him. A desperation to tell him first holding her back. Everyone else knew about the pregnancy before she could tell him. This one thing, silly as it may be, was supposed to be just for him. Then, later, after she’d whispered the words at his grave, sent the secret to the winds, fear grabbed her by the hand and followed her around. If someone else knew, if her mother knew Mulder was the father of her child, would she put her in danger? She couldn’t risk it and piled on reason after reason to keep quiet. Until now.

She sees Mulder with Skinner, tilts her head but doesn’t hear anything. When they walk off, something inside her snaps.

“Mulder?” Her voice is desperate and her mother’s head shoots up, worried eyes searching her face. He returns a moment later, Skinner at his heels. There is a hurried grin on his face, lopsided and honest.

“Where are you going?” Scully asks him and her mother moves away to give them a moment of privacy.

“There’s someone Skinner wants me to talk to.” He avoids eye contact and any other time she might have asked. Right now she is tired. Just too tired. The adrenaline is wearing off; she needs to rest. She wishes she could tell Mulder to come home with her. Curl up on the couch, watch something on TV, and fall asleep against him. “I won’t be long.” Mulder leans down to tell her. His head is so close that their hair tangles together, their foreheads almost touching. She knows they have an audience; both her mother and Skinner are trying not to watch, but she feels the occasional glance in their direction.

“You need to go,” Scully tells Mulder and he nods against her. She wants to kiss him. Answer the burning question without a single word. But instead she just smiles and Mulder understands, grins at her. His hand brushes against her stomach, covertly; anyone could interpret it as an accidental brush but Scully knows. She knows and she understands.

“Mrs. Scully, will you take Dana home, please?”

“Of course, Fox.”

In the warm density of the car, her eyes heavy and burning with exhaustion, Scully decides that no matter how far she counts, how many reasons she comes up with, she no longer wants to.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?” Her mother’s eyes are directed forward, are set firmly on the road. Her hands grip the wheel perfectly and it almost makes Scully smile.

“You said I keep everything so bottled up, keep it all a secret and… I know you’ve been wondering about who the father is.” She hears the little gasp her mother lets out and a moment later, to her great surprise, they’re parking at the side of the road. Her mother turns towards her and takes her hand.

“You don’t have to tell me, Dana. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“It’s Mulder, mom.” The words fall from her mouth like a confession. A small smile curls around her mother’s lips and she takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly.

“Well, that is a relief. Thank you for telling me, dear.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but I just-” Her mother puts a finger on her lips.

“Thank you for telling me, Dana,” she repeats in a soft, warm voice that reminds Scully of her childhood, of coming home after school, of being taken care of whenever she was sick, “Soon you will understand yourself that…” Her mother trails off with a small huff that sounds like laughter, a shake of her head. Scully wants her to continue, tell her what she’ll understand; give her a taste, a hint, of what secrets motherhood holds in store. But her mother just starts the car without another word. She starts chattering about painting the nursery, about what to get the baby.

“How about a stuffed fox for the baby?” She chuckles, a delightful sound and Scully joins in. So many reasons not to tell her, she thinks as she leans back into the seat, and one reason to finally do: trust.


End file.
